Discoveries
by Khai-kun
Summary: On a seemingly ordinary night, Yura Keikain came to know more about a certain, bespectacled errand boy than she ever thought possible.
1. Nightly Nonsense

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Nurarihyon no Mago or any of its characters, and I make no profit whatsoever in the writing of this story. However, if I really were Hiroshi Shiibashi, this is how Chapter 57 would have ended. Enjoy!

…

**Chapter 1: Nightly Nonsense**

"NOOO! NOOO! WHY'VE I GOT TO BE HEALED BY A YOKAI?"

For the greater part of the last few minutes, Yura Keikain was locked in a vehement struggle with her would-be nurse. Although Yura would have normally welcomed any and all medical treatment, her current situation overrode her sense of gratitude. It was simply appalling! To think, an onmyouji of the Keikain, Kyoto's most famed family of exorcists, would be receiving aid from her enemy in her enemy's very own home.

"H-hey . . ." the young woman before her grumbled out. "I'm not thrilled about it either! But it was Master's order, so it can't be helped!"

Yura shot the Yuki-onna an indignant look. "What do you mean 'Master'?" she questioned. "And who do you think you are, just showing up to school like you have a right to be there, when you're just a stupid yokai!"

As hard as it was for Yura to believe, the girl called Tsurara Oikawa was indeed a yokai. She had always seen this person as your normal, everyday schoolgirl, save for her excessively doting behavior towards one particular boy. This girl, whom she considered a classmate, had hidden her true identity as a Yuki-onna.

Without thinking, Yura reached into her pocket and brandished two shikigami. "I'll put an end to you right n-gebogghh!"

As much as she wanted to summon Tanrou and Rokuson, Yura could not find the words to complete the incantation. It was probably due to the fact that her loving caretaker had seen fit to cover her mouth with a rather large slab of ice.

"Just stay quiet for a while!" Tsurara stated. "Covered in wounds like this even though you're a girl . . ."

Yura was stunned. The Tsurara before her was nothing like the bright, cheerful girl that she went to school with. Her stringent tone matched perfectly with her cold blue eyes, eyes that would not hesitate to freeze her at a moment's notice. Had the circumstances been different, Yura would have been intimidated; however, with everything that had happened to her that night, Yura could only twitch in annoyance. It irritated her to be treated in such a condescending way, especially from a yokai.

Yura wanted to offer some sort of retort to the Yuki-onna, but the icy block that still adorned her face could only allow a muffled garble. She compromised by leveling a seething glare at Tsurara in the hopes that the ice yokai would miraculously melt into a shallow puddle. The female yokai, however, simply ignored Yura's death stare as she began to unroll a set of bandages. _Coward! You little coward!_ Yura yelled in her head.

She could not take it anymore. This current predicament was already messing with Yura's already fragile state of mind. With a heaving gasp, the young onmyouji tore the ice block from her mouth and made a mad dash for the partially opened shoji.

"Enough of this!" Yura screamed. "I told you I'm fine!"

Having made it outside, Yura continued running through the garden of the Nura Clan Main House all while ignoring the fading protests of Tsurara. After surveying her surroundings, the onmyouji decided to take refuge in the shadow of a weeping cheery tree.

"Damn it," Yura whispered, "that girl sure doesn't mess around . . . And this mansion really was crawling with yokai after all . . ."

As Yura let her sentence trail off, her thoughts drifted back to the day when she first visited Rikuo's house. _How is it possible? How could I have missed them?_ she asked herself. In her training to become the next successor to the Keikain style onmyuoji arts, Yura had absorbed herself in her studies, practiced the summoning of her shikigami, and worked to develop her ability at sensing spirit auras. She knew that there was something strange about this house, yet she had failed to exorcise even one single yokai. Hell, she even talked face to face with Nurarihyon, the Supreme Commander of all yokai, and did not even realize it!

So absorbed was she in her thoughts, Yura almost failed to notice the gentle shower of leaves that passed before her unfocused eyes. Regaining her composure, she followed the leaves to their origin at the top of the weeping cheery tree. It was then that Yura finally took notice of a figure in the branches, a familiar long-haired figure bathed in the light of the waxing moon.

…

Rikuo Nura was tired, and rightly so. What should have been an ordinary night – spent in the comfort of his favorite weeping cherry tree – turned into a bothersome fight with a pair of fairly skilled onmyouji. The young head of the Nura Clan scowled as the memories of that encounter resurfaced.

_Damn that Keikain!_ thought Rikuo. _Those stupid flowers stung like hell. And that partner of his was just as bad. I was pretty close to being exorcised._ It was to be expected, though. Onmyouji were practitioners of the power of "yang," the perfect balance to yokai who were considered the "yin" of this world. The two forces were enemies, pure and simple. While yokai strove to instill fear into the hearts of humans, onmyouji took it upon themselves to protect their fellow man. _And yet,_ mulled Rikuo, _that bastard had no problem attacking his own sister._

Glancing into the night sky, Rikuo let his thoughts wander to the younger Keikain sibling. She was certainly an interesting one, that Yura. Despite her brother's hostility, that girl fought with all her might to protect his day form, to protect a friend from harm. And for her actions, she was badly hurt.

A grimace formed on Rikuo's face as he remembered Yura's haggard figure after being overwhelmed by her brother's shikigami. That liquid monstrosity could have killed her. _It was called Gengen, right?_ Rikuo thought. _If he ever tries that again, I'll do more than just cut him with Nenekirimaru._

With that final thought, Rikuo reclined into the tree branch and took out the pipe that he had "borrowed" from his grandfather. He spent too much time contemplating the night's events, and he just wanted to relax. Unfortunately, the young head's rest was postponed when a lone figure made itself known.

_Speak of the devil._

Yura had managed to scale the weeping cherry tree and leveled Rentei at Rikuo's yokai form. Her eyes remained emotionless as she steadied the fish shikigami with her right hand.

"Oi," Rikuo stated, "that's a little dangerous, don't you think?"

"If your answer doesn't convince me," Yura warned, "I'll shoot. Nura-kun . . . are you human, or yokai?" The young girl's eyes remained firm as she waited for his answer.

The long-haired yokai gauged her for a minute, seemingly unfazed by the shikigami pointed right at him.

"I'm human during the day. But I'm yokai," he continued with a smirk, "right now, anyway."

"So you're telling me," Yura voiced cautiously, "that you're one person."

"Not convinced?" Rikuo answered. "I guess because I'm like a different person huh . . ."

Rikuo had not expected her to be won over so easily. She was an onmyouji after all. It was only natural that she would not be swayed by the words of a yokai. That is why Rikuo was honestly surprised by the words that followed his response.

"No . . . I'm convinced. What didn't make sense was you, as a yokai, saving me." Yura said softly. She continued with a smile, oblivious to Rikuo's incredulous expression, "But if it was you, Nura-kun, then everything makes sense. Yokai are what they are because they do bad things. If it's you, Nura-kun, then I can accept it. For all those times, thank you . . . for being kind, Nura-kun."

Rikuo took another look at the young girl. As she finished her monologue, her Rentei evaporated into a soft mist that seemed to catch the moonlight. The effect was almost ethereal as the onmyouji stood before him in a bluish glow. Her smile was sincere and her soft, chestnut eyes looked at him with a gentleness that he rarely saw at school.

_Doki-doki._

Rikuo froze. _What was that?_ he thought to himself. _My heart thumped for a second._ It was a strange feeling, one that the young head had never experienced before. His breath seemed to shorten and his chest felt tighter than usual. He tried to turn away, but for some reason, his eyes would not allow it. The longer he stared at Yura, the greater the sensation became. For the first time in his life, Rikuo Nura was scared, scared of the feelings that this girl seemed to be pulling out of him.

With his mind racing, Rikuo did the only thing that he could think of . . . and kicked the onmyouji girl out of the tree.

…

Yura barely had time to think before she was forcefully removed from the branch that she was standing on. The air seemed to rush by her as Rikuo's figure shrunk from her view. Closing her eyes, Yura braced her body for the inevitable impact.

Thankfully, Yura's contact with the ground was softer than expected. That was probably because the girl's intended trajectory was actually the pond at the base of the tree. And was it her imagination, or were there a pair of webbed hands steadying her form underwater? Finally regaining her bearings, Yura willed herself to ascend and broke through the surface with a heavy gasp.

Her anger renewed, Yura directed her attention to the yokai responsible for her fall. "WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING!" she screamed. "YOU'RE SUCH A JERK!"

The yokai in question only offered a lazy glance. "Get your ass back to Kyoto."

Yura directed a furious glare at the long-haired yokai. "That was an evil deed just now!" she exclaimed. "When I get back, I'm gonna destroy you as payback!"

"Oh?" Rikuo answered, amusement in his voice. "I'll look forward to it."

With one final glower, Yura pulled herself from the pond and headed for the house. Her clothes were soaked, and she did not fancy adding a cold to her already bitter mood. She did not even spare the newly arrived Tsurara a passing glance. Ignoring the Yuki-onna's baffled expression, Yura simply contemplated ways in which to exorcise Rikuo's yokai form.

Slowing her pace, Yura rethought her words. _Okay, maybe exorcism is too harsh,_ the girl mused. _He did save me three times already. I'll just make him do something embarrassing . . ._

The young onmyouji's eyes narrowed as her mouth contorted into an evil grin. She would have plenty in store for him when she returned from Kyoto. Visions ran through her head about what she could do to the arrogant yokai, and most of them included a combination of a collar, a maid's outfit, her wolf shikigami, Tanrou, and a whip. But before Yura's fantasies could get any more outrageous, she was interrupted by the very yokai she swore sweet revenge on.

"OI!"

"What is it?" Yura demanded. He better have had a good reason to disrupt her ruminations.

"Want me to go with you back to Kyoto?" yokai Rikuo asked. He held his pipe away from his mouth, waiting for an answer.

Yura was dumbfounded. What was he playing at? After kicking her out of the tree, he was now asking if she wanted his company as she ventured back home.

"Why would I want that?" she asked incredulously. "No way!"

With one final huff, Yura reentered the house in the hopes of finding some dry clothes. She was soaked to the bone and was finally feeling the chill of the night air.

"AH-CHOOO!"

Yura sniffled as she recovered from the sneeze. _Damn it!_ she thought. _As if this night couldn't get any worse . . ._

"Oh my!" a tender voice exclaimed from the hallway.

Glancing to her left, Yura laid her eyes on a familiar woman carrying a stack of futons. This was the same woman who had served her tea when she first visited Rikuo's house. Hers was a voluptuous figure, made all the more apparent by her tight-fitting kimono. But what really stood out about this woman was her waist-length hair. The wavy raven locks cascaded down from her head like a waterfall of ebony. Her look alone was enough to entice even the coldest of men.

Yura backed away and raised a shikigami. "You're a yokai as well, aren't you?" she asked cautiously. Yura's pose would have seemed more intimidating had she not sneezed again and dropped her shikigami.

"AH-CHOOO! AH-CHOOO!"

A soft smile graced the woman's face as she set the futons on the ground. Yura began to back-peddle until she made contact with the shoji. Her eyes stayed focused on the woman who was advancing ever-closer. Reaching into her pocket, Yura prepared to take out more shikigami when the figure before her spoke.

"Hello there," the woman greeted. "You're Keikain-san, the young Master's onmyouji friend, aren't you? It's a pleasure!"

Despite the warm welcome, Yura was still wary and kept her fingers on her shikigami. "You still haven't answered my question," stated the young girl.

With a small chuckle, the woman answered, "Yes, yes, I'm a yokai, and my name is Kejoro. Please don't be alarmed. The young Master instructed everyone not to harm you. You're safe here, so please don't worry."

Hesitantly, Yura asked, "Nura-kun said that?"

"Of course. In fact, he threatened to kill anyone who so much as put a scratch on you," the yokai replied. She then narrowed her eyes and continued in an insinuating manner, "You must be 'very' special to him."

The emphasis of that one word was not lost to the young onmyouji. Unbidden, Yura felt her face heat up as a rosy blush accentuated her pale cheeks.

"W-W-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" Yura screamed. "STOP TALKING ABOUT SUCH NONSENSE!"

Yura could barely wrap her head around what this yokai was implying. Her, a descendant of the Keikain family, special to "him," the grandson of Nurarihyon! It was preposterous, not to mention that she found Rikuo's yokai side to be a complete jerk. In fact, she began to mentally list all of the things that she found detestable about the subject in question.

One: He was an arrogant jerk.

Two: He kicked her out of the tree.

Three: . . . He was an arrogant jerk.

Four: . . . He . . . he . . . Yura could not think of anything else.

_Crap!_ she thought. There was nothing else she could use to justify her current hatred of the long-haired, robe-clad yokai. Drained of all her energy, Yura simply slumped to the ground in a tired heap.

"Hey now," Kejoro whispered softly, transforming from mischievous minx to mannerly mother. "We can't have you falling asleep in these wet clothes. Come on. I'll get the bath ready. Most everyone's out on the town tonight, so you should have it all to yourself."

The young onmyouji did not even care anymore. Too exhausted to argue, Yura allowed herself to be escorted to the bath. _Oh well,_ she thought, _maybe I can finally get some peace of mind._

Unfortunately for Yura, she failed to notice the ghost of a smirk pass over the yokai's face.

…

It was infuriating. For the past half hour since his spat with Yura, Rikuo could not sit still. No matter how many times he tried, he just could not get the image of that girl out of his mind. He kept replaying the scene over and over in his mind.

_What the hell happened?_ Rikuo asked himself. _Why did I react like that?_ Since the blood of Nurarihyon awoke within the young head, he had never felt fear the likes of which he experienced tonight. No matter the opponent, Rikuo had been the one to invoke his fear and overcome any adversary that threatened him or his friends. From the wise and experienced Gyuki to the deranged and power-hungry Tamazuki, Rikuo had found the strength and the will to surpass them all. But this girl, this one human girl managed to tear a hole in his iron-clad defenses.

Yura Keikain.

_Doki-doki._

"DAMN IT!" Rikuo screamed. He had enough. Pondering the enigma that was the onmyouji girl was only giving him a headache. After one last puff of his grandfather's pipe, the long-haired yokai jumped down from the weeping cherry tree and headed inside.

As Rikuo entered the corridors of the main house, he noticed the lack of activity in the normally boisterous abode. If he had been in his day form, the young head may have considered it eerie. As it was, he was simply glad that things were quiet for once.

Making his way into the kitchen, Rikuo happened upon Kejoro, who seemed to be pouring herself a cup of tea.

"Young Master," Kejoro remarked once she noticed his presence, "how are you feeling? Fancy a cup of tea?"

"No thanks, Kejoro." Rikuo answered with a sigh. He was exhausted, and he showed it by collapsing on the tatami in front of the kitchen table.

The hair yokai regarded the successor of the clan with a raised eyebrow. It was rare for Rikuo's night form to express any weakness, much less fatigue. Her interest piqued, Kejoro prodded the boy whom she considered like a little brother.

"Something wrong?" she asked. "You seem tired."

Rikuo turned his attention to the woman who now seated herself directly across from him. After taking a quick sip of her tea, she flashed the boy a quick smile and cocked her head slightly, waiting for a response.

"I'm not sure . . ." Rikuo began.

"Come on," insisted the female yokai. "You know that you can tell me anything." Rikuo could not help but agree with those words. Kejoro was like the older sister he never had. In the past, he would always go to her with problems that he was uncomfortable discussing with his grandfather or mother. Maybe she could discern the feelings that he had been having.

"I . . . well . . . it's . . . it's just really strange. I've just been feeling really strange ever since I talked to Yura." As soon as he mentioned the onmyouji girl, Kejoro's eyes lit up like fireworks during a summer festival.

"Really . . ." the hair yokai interrupted. "That's interesting. Go on."

Eying the woman across from him warily, Rikuo continued, "Yeah . . . I don't know what to make of it. I can vaguely remember feeling like this while in my day form. It's just been happening recently, and I'm pretty sure it's all because of that girl. Whenever I think about her, my chest tightens and it becomes harder to breathe. And when I see her, my mind races. I can't seem to think properly when it comes to her. To be honest, it . . . it . . . it scares me."

Kejoro was momentarily taken aback. This was unexpected. Rikuo, grandson of the Supreme Commander, was scared! Although Kejoro had an idea about what Rikuo was truly feeling, she halted her thoughts and continued to listen with rapt attention.

"It scares me," Rikuo stated, "to know that this girl can affect me in ways that even the strongest of yokai can't. What is this girl? Why does she make me feel this way? I can't help but think that she's really a yokai in disguise. . ."

After Rikuo uttered that last sentence, Kejoro couldn't help but let out a jovial laugh.

"Hey, what's so funny?" demanded Rikuo as his face began to glow.

Once Kejoro calmed down, she took a long, hard look at the yokai in front of her. _My, my,_ she thought. _You really are too cute Rikuo._ The person in front of her may have been destined to become the Supreme Commander of all yokai, but he was still a boy, an innocent boy who had yet to fully grasp matters of the heart. It depressed Kejoro a bit to know that the young boy she used to take care of was now growing up. But that was life, and the female yokai knew that there was no way to stop the flow of time.

After taking another sip of her tea, she gave Rikuo a warm smile and responded, "I'm sorry Rikuo, but this is a question that I can't answer for you. This is something that you have to realize on your own. But I can assure you that it isn't something bad. I promise."

Even yokai knew the value of love. Though they were beings born from the shadows, they too knew what it meant to cherish another.

Rikuo seemed to deflate back into the tatami once his sister figure said her piece. If Kejoro would not answer him, then he gave up. It was not worth it.

"Well," Kejoro said in an overly happy tone, "why don't you take a bath to get your mind off things? I already prepared it for myself, but it seems like you could use it more."

Rikuo took a second to consider her offer. A long, hot soak in the grand bath sounded like a dream, and he was hoping for a chance to finally rid his thoughts of the onmyouji girl.

"Thanks, Kejoro," replied Rikuo. "I'll take you up on that."

As Rikuo headed off to the bath, Kejoro couldn't help but smirk mischievously. Although she did not want to tell Rikuo outright what his feelings were, the hair yokai had no qualms about pushing him toward the answer . . . literally.

…

After getting out of the bath, Yura felt refreshed. There was just nothing like a relaxing soak to make all of her worries dissipate. Even her annoyance towards Rikuo was long forgotten.

Grabbing the towel left by Kejoro, Yura proceeded to dry her damp hair. As much as she hated to admit it, she liked that hair yokai. Not only had she prepared the bath, but she also offered Yura a set of spare pajamas while she washed the girl's clothes. _I wish more yokai were like her,_ mused Yura. With her body finally dry, the female onmyouji set down the towel and reached for her pajamas.

Now, Yura was not one to believe in luck. She was the type of person who made things happen by her abilities alone. But today, it seemed as if some god of misfortune was picking on her especially. There was no other explanation for everything that had happened to her. Some god of misfortune somewhere in Ukiyoe Town was so bored that he just had to torture some random onmyouji girl from Kyoto. That could explain why it was at this moment in time that the fusuma slid open to reveal yokai Rikuo clad in nothing but a towel.

For nearly a minute, the two adolescents simply stared at each other, lost for words. Under more normal circumstances, Yura probably would have screamed, but for some reason, her voice would not cooperate with her. Maybe she was just tired after all that had transpired this night, or maybe she was just too shocked to even care anymore. Regardless, the girl finally snapped out of her trance and broke the heavy silence.

"I . . . I'll be ready in a bit," she managed to stammer out. "Can you wait outside for a while?"

"Y-yeah," answered Rikuo in a strained voice.

Their exchange concluded, Rikuo closed the fusuma and went to fetch some tissues. For some reason, his nose was bleeding.

Yura on the other hand, quickly dressed and disappeared from the bath in such a way that would make Nurarihyon himself proud. She raced down countless corridors and ducked through various rooms before she finally lost her breath and crumpled to the ground with her head buried between her knees.

_Someone dig a hole and bury me right here,_ pleaded Yura. She had never been so mortified in her entire life. A boy had seen her naked, and it was not just any boy. It was "him." It was that arrogant, long-haired grandson of Nurarihyon, Rikuo Nura. But what was even more humiliating was the fact that Yura had just outright stared at him in all his towel-clad glory . . . and enjoyed it!

Kami! She enjoyed it. Although she focused most of her time on her onmyouji arts, Yura Keikain would be lying if she said that she did not have an appreciation for the male species. Yokai Rikuo may have not been excessively muscular, but his arms were fit and his abs were toned. Like a Roman god chiseled in marble, Rikuo's body was one that would turn even the most proper of Japanese women into a raving fan girl.

But what enraptured Yura the most were his eyes. They were orbs of deep crimson that seemed to penetrate her very soul. Though those eyes were usually filled with strength and determination, Yura managed to see a different side of those eyes just moments ago. In the bath, they were innocent, vulnerable eyes that expressed genuine surprise, and had the onmyouji not been in a state of undress, she would have swooned.

A fierce blush spread across Yura's face as she dwelled on the encounter. There was no way she could face Rikuo after that.

"Keikain-san," a soft voice stated, "are you all right?"

Yura lifted her face to gaze upon the hair yokai that was standing above her. The woman looked almost apologetic, but for what, Yura was not sure.

"I'd rather not talk about it," Yura mumbled into her arms.

"It's something to do with the young Master, doesn't it?" Kejoro reasoned softly.

Yura tensed, but she refused to offer a response. There was no way she could talk to a yokai about her problems.

The hair yokai simply smiled and continued saying, "Please don't worry too much. The young Master of the night is hard to approach sometimes. He is certainly different from his day form, that's for sure."

What Kejoro just said caused Yura to start. Though she had confronted the long-haired yokai about the same idea earlier that night, she was still unsure. Were human Rikuo and yokai Rikuo truly one in the same? She wanted to know the truth.

Kejoro decided to answer Yura's unasked question. "If you really want to know more about him," the yokai said, "I suggest you talk to his human side. He is certainly more truthful and agreeable in that form."

"Y-yeah," Yura responded with a yawn, "I guess I will."

"For now though," Kejoro asserted, "you should get some rest. There's already a futon in this room, and I'll make sure no one disturbs you here."

"Thank you," Yura whispered as sleep slowly started to claim her. The events of the night had finally taken their toll on the young girl, and she was looking forward to a much-needed respite. She would tackle her troubles in the morning.

…

It was quite late by the time Rikuo finished his bath. He wandered down the main corridor of the house looking for a certain hair yokai.

_Damn that Kejoro!_ cursed Rikuo. She knew that Yura was in the bath, and she purposefully tricked him just so that they would meet. Rikuo could feel his face grow warm as he remembered the image of the onmyouji girl.

Steam permeated the air of the grand bath, but the young girl's figure was still distinguishable through the light mist. Although Rikuo knew that Yura was fit, he would never have guessed that she had such an athletic figure. Those school uniforms really were quite deceiving. Her lean muscles were probably honed through years of study in the onmyouji arts. After all, one had to be physically capable to be able to square off against yokai.

Despite her nimble form, Rikuo was surprised to find just how pale her skin was, though not in an unhealthy way. Rather, her skin was a dazzling white, akin to that of porcelain. She was like a fragile doll that would easily break if handled in the wrong hands. If Rikuo handled her, he would definitely be gentle, especially with her br-

_STOP!_ Rikuo yelled in his head. _DO NOT GO THERE! DO NOT LET YOUR THOUGHTS GO THERE!_

So lost was Rikuo in his thoughts that he almost ran into the very yokai he was looking for.

"Kejoro!" Rikuo exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the hair yokai. "Why the hell did you do that?"

Rikuo's sister figure looked at the young head with the most innocent look she could muster, complete with puppy dog eyes.

"Do what?" she asked.

"You know what I mean!" Rikuo croaked out. "Yura . . . the bath . . . Yura . . ."

"Oh that . . ." Kejoro trailed off. "I figured you would find the answer to your question if you spent more time together."

Rikuo was truly at a loss for words. What was his caretaker trying to do to him? It was bad enough that these strange feelings kept swirling around within the troubled yokai. Now Kejoro was simply adding fuel to the fire. Rikuo was surprised that he had not gone mad yet.

"Fine," Rikuo stated gruffly as he rubbed his forehead with his left hand. "I don't care anymore. I just want to get some sleep."

"Good," Kejoro said with a smile. "There should be an extra futon in your room, considering Keikain-san is already sleeping in yours . . ."

"Okay then," Rikuo remarked.

It took all of ten seconds for Rikuo to process what Kejoro had just told him. His eyes widened and his face paled as he rounded on the female yokai.

"WHAT?" Rikuo exclaimed.

Kejoro merely raised an eyebrow. "You heard me," she answered, "and keep your voice down. She's already sleeping. Or would you rather it be the one futon? If that's the case, then I'm not going to be the one to explain to Wakana-sama why she suddenly became a grandmother."

"Kejoro," Rikuo managed through gritted teeth, "you know what I mean."

With a sigh, Kejoro whispered, "That girl is exhausted Rikuo. There is no way she is going home in her condition at this time of the night. Also, even though you trust your subordinates, there are those who hold hostile feelings toward humans, especially one who is an onmyouji. The safest place for her to be right now is right by your side . . . and who knows? Maybe you'll be able to discover what it is that you're truly feeling."

After hearing her explanation, Rikuo could not argue with her. Tired and defeated, Rikuo could only comply to his caretaker's wishes. "All right, all right, I understand . . . thanks Kejoro. Goodnight."

The hair yokai smiled softly. "Goodnight, young Master."

With that, Kejoro departed and Rikuo entered his room. He surveyed the familiar surroundings. His desk was situated on the left side of the room, adorned with the clutter of various school supplies. Bookshelves lined the right wall, filled mostly with a variety of shonen manga. And in the center of the tatami lay two futons, as well as the girl that had been driving him crazy for the past few hours.

Rikuo took a seat near Yura's head and took a moment to study her. The moonlight filtered perfectly through the shoji and settled on the onmyouji's face, giving her a subtle glow. Thanks to the light, the young head could see all of her features perfectly. She looked peaceful as she laid there in the throes of a light slumber.

Her eyelashes were thin and looked like fine thread. They were perfect for her pale skin. Her nose was petite, like a button. It was barely noticeable in the faint light. But what drew Rikuo's attention the most were Yura's lips. They were small and had a soft pinkish hue to them. As he continued to stare, those lips parted softly to let out a quiet breath.

Gulping slightly, Rikuo found his face drawing ever closer to Yura.

_Discover what I'm truly feeling?_ Rikuo asked himself. After gazing at the angelic face beneath him, the young head was beginning to understand.

_I think I already know the answer. But it can't be, can it? It's too fast. It's . . ._ Rikuo's thoughts trailed off as he focused on the girl's lips one more time. They were but a breath away. He could almost taste her . . .

_No . . ._ Rikuo reasoned. He pulled his head back. _Not like this. I need to be sure. I need to talk to her . . . when I'm human._

As Rikuo settled back into his futon, he took one last look at the girl sleeping beside him. With a gentle smile, he closed his eyes and began to dream strange dreams . . . of yokai, onmyouji, and bath towels.

…

**Author's Notes:** Well, here's the first chapter of my first ever piece of fanfiction. I really enjoyed writing this, and I plan for this to have at least two more chapters. Unfortunately, due to college starting again, I don't know when I'll have the time to finish this. I WILL finish this though, no doubt.

Comments, suggestions, and constructive criticism are appreciated. After all, that's the only way I can get better.

Catch ya later!

**Vocab:**

yin and yang - two opposing forces in traditional Chinese philosophy and medicine (e.g. yin = dark/evil, yang = light/good)

shoji - sliding and portable doors made of paper and wood

kimono - a traditional Japanese garment worn by men, women, and children

tatami - a traditional type of Japanese flooring consisting of mats made of rice straw to form the core, with a covering of woven soft rush (_igusa_) straw

fusuma - vertical rectangular panels which can slide from side to side to redefine spaces within a room, or act as doors

futon - Japanese bedding consisting of padded mattresses and quilts pliable enough to be folded and stored away during the day, allowing the room to serve for purposes other than as a bedroom


	2. Morning Musings

**Disclaimer:** Here we go again. Sorry for the long wait. I do not own Nurarihyon no Mago or any of its characters, and I make no profit whatsoever in the writing of this story. However, this story is mine. Enjoy!

…

**Chapter 2: Morning Musings**

_How did it come to this?_

That one question kept circling around Yura's mind. This was not what she wanted, not what she envisioned when she took it upon herself to seek out and defeat the great demon Nurarihyon. It was supposed to be her proudest moment as an heir to the Keikain style onmyouji arts. Instead, Yura felt sick to her stomach, as if Ryuuji had unleashed his Gengen with reckless abandon. Standing before her was her ultimate goal, and all Yura could feel was an onslaught of conflicting emotions.

_Please tell me that this isn't real._ Despite her inner plea, Yura's body did not want to comply. Her eyes began to water as she raised her left hand and focused it straight ahead. Unbidden, the young onmyuoji began to recite an incantation that she had never spoken before.

"Repel the demon forces."

The air had become thick as spirit energy began to swirl around the distraught girl.

"Purify the source of evil."

Yura grimaced as the spirit energy completely enveloped her left hand in the form of a pitch black skull.

"Hag . . . Hag . . ."

Time seemed to slow down as the words seemed to catch in Yura's throat, almost refusing to come out. She closed her eyes, praying one last time. _Please. Please. Tell me that this isn't real._ As Yura reopened her eyes, she found that her prayers remained unanswered.

The haggard boy before her could only manage a tired smile. The fearful aura that normally adorned his proud figure seemed lost at the moment. His torn robe drooped from his waist, the pieces swaying as a light gust filled the air. His hair was in shambles. The normally ivory locks were coated in ash and dirt, giving it a dark gray tone. His body was not much better. Unable to fully support himself, the long-haired yokai had dropped to one knee while using his sword as a crutch. In fact, it was a surprise to Yura that he was still conscious. The boy was covered head to toe in sword wounds and gashes. Any normal human would have passed out from the blood loss. He was supposed to be the image of a man fully broken, yet he still managed to look content and happy even at death's doorstep.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, the young girl screamed to the heavens as the boy before her became enveloped in a blinding white light.

"HAGUN INVOCATION!"

…

"NURA-KUN!"

Yura had jolted awake, sweat pouring down her face. She held her blanket close to her in a vice grip, clinging to it like a lifeline. She was afraid to let go for fear of falling back asleep and reliving that terrible scene. _Calm down!_ Yura reasoned. _It's over. It wasn't real._ Well, at least that was what the young girl was trying to convince herself of. After taking a few deep breaths, Yura relaxed her hands and massaged her aching temples.

"It happened again." Yura mumbled to herself. "One of those visions. They've become more frequent ever since I came to Ukiyoe Town."

Onmyouji. As Ryuuji would say, they were "the police of those who do not belong in this world." As such, they created the tools necessary and developed the skills needed to do their job. Gifted with magic and powers beyond the realm of normal humans, the onmyouji took it upon themselves to venture into a world that not even they fully understood. From the summoning of shikigami to the practicing of spells, Yura had been a witness to what each person was capable of. Whether it was Akifusa's talent for crafting spirit blades, Pato's aptitude for controlling Gomoramaru, or Masatsugu's ability at constructing magical barriers, the young onmyouji knew that she too had the potential for greatness.

Yura's birth had come as a momentous occasion for the Keikain family. As the sole female heir in over four hundred years, she was considered a beacon of hope for the cursed bloodline. With immense spirit power rivaling that of the 13th, it was believed that she could free the family from the machinations of the great ayakashi Hagoromo Gitsune. And throughout her training, Yura had shown that she was capable of carrying such a burden. Utilizing her spirit power, Yura had developed her skill at summoning multiple offensive shikigami as well as calling forth the ultimate Keikain technique, the Hagun. But unbeknownst to all save for the main family, Yura was gifted with something more.

Ever since her fifth birthday, Yura had the ability to see those events that had yet to pass. From the depths of her dreams, Yura was able to see many things . . .

A long-haired figure leading a procession of yokai into the night . . .

A pale young woman clothed in nothing but black . . .

A faceless boy offering her his hand . . .

These visions were not always clear to the young girl, but she took it all in stride thanks to the support of her grandfather, the 27th Keikain Hidemoto. As he had often told her, these powers should be seen as a blessing, not a curse. Yura was chosen for a reason, and only time could tell what kind of impact her visions would have for her and for those she cared about.

After shaking her head clear and lightly smacking her cheeks, Yura finally took in her current surroundings. The room was relatively dark, but after a few seconds, the onmyouji was able to adjust to the dim lighting. To her left, Yura could make out a large rectangular object. _A desk, maybe? _thought the young girl. _Is this a shoin?_ She squinted her eyes as she continued to probe the room. The right wall was covered with bookshelves, and they seemed to be filled to the brim with a variety of reading materials. As her eyes moved down the shelves, a hint of movement in her peripheral vision caused the onmyouji to finally take notice of the figure nestled next to her. In a fit of surprise, Yura fell backward and knocked her head on the tatami. It took all of her strength not to scream out loud.

_NURA-KUN! _Yura exclaimed to herself. _WHAT'S GOING ON?_

It did not take long for Yura's memories of the previous night to come rushing back to her. The young girl's face instantly flared into a full-blown blush as she recalled the encounter in the grand bath. She could almost picture it. The steam was thick, but every curve, every muscle, and every scar was visible to her shocked eyes. The one thing that would have made the scene perfect would be the removal of the tow-

_AHHH! NO! _Yura berated herself. _STOP! STOP! STOP!_ The young girl had raised her arms over her head and began waving frantically in an attempt to rid her mind's eye of its current train of thought. When she was satisfied that the thought cloud had dispersed, Yura aimed her attention toward the sleeping yokai.

As quietly as she could, Yura crawled over to Rikuo's side to better observe him. Despite the creaking of the tatami, the young head did not stir from his slumber. It was strange to see the master of yokai in such a defenseless state. His limbs were sprawled out in different directions, and as a result, his blanket had been twisted into an unrecognizable heap. His hair was a complete mess as well. The black and white locks were splayed all over the futon giving the impression that Rikuo was drowning in a sea of fur. But what really surprised Yura was the goofy grin that had stretched across his face.

"Still sleeping, huh?" the young girl asked.

She was answered by a light snore.

"You know, Nura-kun," Yura found herself saying, "you really shouldn't sleep in the same room as an onmyouji."

Another snore.

Yura continued. "After all, you're a yokai. In case you forgot, it's my duty to exorcise you."

The snore count rose to three.

"And I'm still a little angry about yesterday." Yura reddened a bit, thinking about the two situations her words could apply to. "But, I'll forgive you just this once."

As Yura said her piece, she noticed that a slight trail of drool had begun to drip from Rikuo's mouth. The young girl found herself smiling slightly at the boy's carefree expression. This was certainly not what she expected of the grandson of Nurarihyon. After all the stories and legends passed down by the Keikain, she imagined something more menacing, more frightening to be able to lead a hyakki yakou. But after some thought, she should have expected this. Ever since her arrival in Ukiyoe Town, Yura's perception of yokai had undergone a slight change, and it was all due to one person.

"Because Nura-kun is Nura-kun."

Yura reached out to wipe off the drool, but held back when she noticed something strange going on with the young head. During her one-sided conversation, Yura had failed to notice the sunlight that had begun to filter through the shoji. The onmyouji's eyes widened at the scene that was taking place. As soon as the light touched the sleeping yokai, Yura could feel the spirit power in the room fluctuate. Rikuo's body began to give off a whitish glow as streams of haze began to gush from his prone form.

"Wha, what's happening?" Yura asked in a panicked voice. Her mind was in a frenzy as she tried to sort out the situation. The young girl considered screaming for Kejoro when the surge of spirit power suddenly calmed.

Yura could only stare with her mouth agape at the transformation that was taking place right before her. Rikuo began to shrink slightly, and the muscles that had defined his sleeping figure so well also seemed to disappear. His face followed soon afterward. The strong pointed jaw and sculpted cheeks began to take on a little fat and regress to the adolescent face that Yura was so used to seeing. Finally, Rikuo's hair slowly receded. The long flowing locks of ebony and ivory reduced themselves to a messy black and brown mop. After a few seconds, Yura was in the presence of the Rikuo that she had grown accustomed to.

". . . Wow," the young girl finally said after witnessing the spectacle. "I guess you weren't kidding, were you, Nura-kun? Yokai at night, but human during the day. I almost didn't believe you when you first told me."

Yura gave a halfhearted laugh as she turned her attention to the shoji. She already had enough surprises for one morning and needed to clear her head. As the young girl slid the shoji open, she shielded her eyes from the rising sun. _Yeah,_ she mused, _definitely a good day to clear my head._ With one last look at the sleeping boy, Yura stepped into the garden.

…

It was a beautiful summer morning that greeted the young onmyouji when she ventured outside. The eastern sky was bathed in soft purples and blues akin to a pastel painting and the sun hung like a golden disk, signaling the start of the day. After taking a stroll around the garden, Yura took a seat on one of the many roka that lined the exterior of the Nura Clan Main House. As the young girl stretched her arms up over her head, she took a deep breath of the crisp air. With a long exhale, she relieved herself of all – well, almost all – the anxiety that had been plaguing her for the past few days.

"I wonder what's going on back home," Yura mused. "For Ryuuji-niichan to come all the way here and tell me to come home, things must be really bad. And are Shuuji-niichan and Koreto-niichan really gone?"

Yura felt a prick in her heart as thought about her older brothers. When she was very young, those two would dote on her night and day. After all, she was a girl and the baby of the family. But ever since they became guardians for the Keichou Seal, Yura's relationship with the two had become strained. So devoted were they to their duties that they never had much time to spare for their little sister.

Tears began to well up in Yura's eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. "No," she firmly said. "I shouldn't cry. That's not what they would have wanted. I have to be strong . . ."

"HAH!"

_Huh?_ the young girl questioned. _What was that?_

"HAH!"

Turning around, Yura directed her attention to the shoji before her. It was strange, but unlike the rest of the main house, this was the only one that seemed to show any signs of hardship. Pieces of wood splintered from the frame and the entire thing was covered in tape. Carefully, she pressed her ear to the sliding door and waited.

"HAH!"

_Definitely this room._ Yura was about to slide open the shoji when she caught herself. Lately, her curiosity had not been kind to her. Twice in Ukiyoe Town she had nearly lost her life. _And twice Nura-kun had been there to save me, _she reminded herself. This time, however, the young head was still sleeping soundly. Also, there was no telling what lay beyond that door – this was the Nura Clan Main House after all. After a few more seconds of internal deliberation, Yura came to a compromise. Ever so slowly, the onmyouji cracked the door open enough to peek inside.

The room inside was relatively large, akin to that of dojo. In fact, it might as well have been a dojo. The dark wooden floors reflected the sunbeams that had come streaming in from the deep skylights. It was almost blinding that Yura had to squint her eyes even more than they already were. The walls were lined with shinai, bokken, and katana of all sizes. It certainly seemed like a place that Akifusa would enjoy. And in the center of the room stood a young woman whom Yura had never seen before.

The woman looked petite, but there was an aura about her that seemed to mesmerize the young onmyouji. She was dressed in a loose white keikogi and black hakama that accentuated her form quite nicely. The back of the woman's auburn hair came down to her shoulders, but the front was parted to reveal her chocolate brown eyes. Her stare was so intense that she could have melted the bokken that she was grasping right in front of her. Finally, after a minute that almost seemed like an eternity, the young woman let out a breath and continued her routine.

"HAH!"

Yura remained transfixed at the performance she had become witness to. Words alone could not do justice to this woman's mastery of the sword. She began with one forward thrust and then another. From there, the woman executed a quick spin like a ballerina and then threw another thrust towards her invisible opponent. Kenshi and sword seemed to merge as one the longer the routine continued. This woman truly embodied the philosophy of letting one's weapon be an extension of the body.

After a series of quick thrusts and slashes, the woman seemed to relax once more. However, there was something in her eyes that gave Yura pause. Suddenly, the young onmyouji felt it. There was a quick rise in spirit power, and it was emanating from the kenshi before her. What happened next was like poetry in motion. Assuming a solid stance with her left foot in front of her, the woman brought her bokken to her cheek and slowly closed her eyes. After whispering something to herself, the woman's eyes shot open. She took a step with her right foot and used it as a springboard to propel her lithe form into the air. It was with almost effortless ease that the woman executed two full body rotations in midair. She was like water in the way her movement flowed: graceful and serene like a sinuous river, yet mysterious and deadly like a raging torrent. As she came back to solid ground, the woman shifted her upper body as she delivered a violent cut with her bokken.

"HAH!"

Yura barely had any time to react as a wave of spirit energy came rushing at her. The young girl could only stare in awe at the bright blue light that had seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Then, purely out of instinct, Yura jumped back from the shoji and aimed her left hand forward.

"RENTEI!"

…

BOOM!

"WHAAAAA! I'm up! I'm up! I'm . . . huh?"

Rikuo sprung up from his futon in a daze. The effects of sleep still had the young head under its spell, but he was aware enough to realize that he had just been woken up by an unwelcome alarm clock. As he lazily scanned his room, he tried to piece together what just happened. _Let's see,_ thought Rikuo languidly, _I'm pretty sure that was an explosion just now._ Rikuo then had to avert his eyes as he felt the day's first rays of light. _And the sun's up. Must be morning. Man, I hate mornings. Okay, morning plus explosion, morning plus explosion . . ._

"Ahhh," the young head said in realization, "mom must be overdoing it again. I hope the dojo is still in one piece."

Rikuo could not help but chuckle to himself as he thought about the last time his clan had to remodel the dojo. Since the dawn of Edo, the Nura Clan Main House stood as a testament to his grandfather's legacy. Every member of Nurarihyon's hyakki yakou took pride in the home that their leader had constructed, for it was more than just a grandiose piece of architecture. This house was the foundation that Rikuo's grandfather created to realize his dream of coexistence between human and ayakashi, and within the span of a few hours, Rikuo's mother had reduced an important part of that foundation into naught but a smoking crater filled with splintered wood. Suffice it to say, Wakana Nura was never allowed to use her full power in the main house ever again. However, those restrictions did not stop her from accidentally destroying a shoji or two.

Putting the thoughts of his mother aside, Rikuo then turned his attention to the girl who had been occupying his mind as of late. Unfortunately for him, the girl in question was nowhere to be found. All that remained of the young onmyouji was the futon in which she had slept.

"Keikain-san?"

Rikuo was met with nothing but silence. A chill ran up the young head's spine as a multitude of scenarios began to play through his head. Springing to his feet, Rikuo took the moment to probe his room. It was then that he noticed the partially opened shoji. _She didn't go home, did she?_ Rikuo asked himself. _It's still early, and she was hurt pretty bad._

Unable to bear it any longer, Rikuo fumbled for his glasses and ripped open the shoji. Although the sun shined above him like a diamond in the sky, the young head might as well have been blind to its radiant light. His mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: Yura's safety. With desperation etched on his face, Rikuo began his search . . .

"Ooof!"

. . . only to run headfirst into his overprotective bodyguard.

Tsurara was the perfect mirror image of her master at that moment. After her unexpected collision, the Yuki-onna fell to her rear and had taken to nursing the fresh bump on her forehead.

"Ow, that really hurt," the ice yokai murmured as she continued to rub the tender bruise. "Who in their right mind would ru-"

Tsurara froze mid-sentence when she realized who it was that she had crashed into.

"Rikuo-sama! Oh no! Are you all right? I am so sorry! What should I do? Do you need some ice? Should I get Master Zen?"

The young boy interrupted his subordinate's postulations with a wave of his hand. "Tsurara, calm down. I'm all right. But I have to go. I have to find Keikain-san."

"The onmyouji girl?" the yuki-onna asked. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Yeah," Rikuo answered, "she's gone. Last night, she was sleeping right beside me, but when I woke up she-"

"HIEEEEE?"

The young head cringed as Tsurara's shriek pierced the morning air. For someone so small, she had a voice that could bring down the largest of yokai.

"Ri- Ri- Rikuo-sama, you- you- you slept with that girl?"

Rikuo furrowed his eyebrows as a look of pure and utter confusion adorned his face. He turned to his subordinate and was surprised to see the Yuki-onna even paler than normal. Tsurara's eyes looked downcast as a cherry red blush materialized on her cheeks. She had even taken to fiddling with her scarf in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. Finally, it dawned upon Rikuo what he had just said.

"NO!" Rikuo practically screamed as he exhibited his own rosy blush. "I did not sleep with her! I mean, technically, we did sleep together, but I didn't, well, ummm, what I mean to say is . . ."

"RIKUO-SAMA YOU IDIOT!"

The Yuki-onna's words continued to echo as she disappeared into the house with haste. Rikuo could only sigh at his subordinate's outburst. It was not exactly unexpected; rather, he expected something much more extreme from the excessively emotional ice yokai - a frozen limb or two seemed plausible. Thankfully, the young head could say that he escaped the encounter relatively unscathed. After getting to his feet once more, Rikuo was set to resume his search, but he was delayed yet again by the arrival of another of his caretakers.

"Young Master," greeted Kejoro, "good morning."

"Good morning, Kejoro," answered Rikuo rather quickly.

"Is something wrong?" inquired the hair yokai. "You look kind of worried."

"I am worried," replied Rikuo as he looked around furiously. "When I woke up, Keikain-san was gone. You don't know where she is, do you?"

The female yokai took a moment to ponder the situation. She averted her gaze to the sky as she placed a solitary finger on her puckered lips. The young head began to lose his patience and was about ready to leave when Kejoro snapped out of her thinking pose.

"Young Master," Kejoro said cheerfully, "why don't you just search for her by sensing her spirit aura?"

Rikuo had taken to staring at his caretaker as if she had grown a second head. The weight of her words did not fully sink in until a full minute had passed by. When the realization finally hit him, Rikuo mentally slapped himself. _DUH!_ he screamed in his head. _Why didn't I think of that in the first place?_

Rikuo immediately dropped to the floor and crossed his legs as if preparing to meditate. He gripped his knees and let out a slow, even breath. As his eyes gently closed, the young head cleared his mind of any and all thoughts. Sensing spirit auras was not necessarily a difficult practice, but it would take a great amount of concentration to find a single girl, especially one in a mansion full of yokai.

When Rikuo had finally settled himself, he started to feel them. Auras of all kinds permeated throughout the Nura Clan Main House. To the untrained mind, spirit auras were nothing more than glowing lights, simple signals that validated one's existence in this world. Common. Ordinary. Unexceptional. These words and more would be enough for amateurs who did not have the patience to grasp the subtle nuances each aura conveys. Just like every human being and yokai, spirit auras were unique in and of themselves. By narrowing his focus, the young head was able to discern them from one another.

The closest aura that Rikuo could make out was that of his sister figure right in front of him. Kejoro's aura was one that the young head could never mistake. It gave off a soft orange glow and exuded a warmth akin to a glowing hearth. Wispy strands emanating from the light were almost reminiscent of the yokai's long flowing hair. _The same as always,_ thought Rikuo. A content sigh escaped the boy's lips as he lingered on the aura for a few more seconds. He was almost overcome with the desire to hug the female yokai, but Rikuo refrained from the impulse and continued his search.

A pale blue aura raced down the corridors of the main house further away from Rikuo's location. Even from a distance, the young head could feel the cool mist that swirled around the pallid light.

_Must be Tsurara,_ mused Rikuo. _I hope she calms down soon._

A dark blue aura seemed to be in the company of one with a deep ebony color somewhere in the courtyard. They both gave off a proud yet amiable vibe.

_That has to be Ao and Kuro,_ thought Rikuo with a smile. _Those two always seem to be together._

Towards the garden, the young head could make out an aura that gave off a light green glow. It seemed just as fluid and carefree as its owner.

_Looks like Kappa is just being Kappa,_ Rikuo said to himself. _I'll feed him later._

Meanwhile, Kejoro simply stood and watched as her care searched for the object of his affection. She already knew the location of the onmyouji girl. After all, she could sense spirit auras as well. But it was more fun to be a spectator and have Rikuo work for his goal. From his body language and mannerisms, it looked as if the young head was coming to understand his true feelings.

_Like father, like son I suppose,_ mused Kejoro with a sad smile.

"I found her!" Rikuo declared at long last, surprising his caretaker in the process. There was no doubt in his mind that this aura belonged to Yura.

Just a little further from Kappa's location, the young head had found the light that he had been searching for. The aura was one of a brilliant white luminosity that constantly pulsated as if to the beat of a steady drum. Ever since Rikuo discovered the nature of the girl's aura, he believed that it suited her well. White was a common color for humans, but Yura's far outshone her fellow kin. Maybe it was her background as an onmyouji; maybe it was her unwavering and stubborn personality; or maybe it was something that Rikuo simply could not put into words; but to him at least, Yura shined brighter than even all the stars in the sky.

Getting to his feet, the young head turned to Kejoro and gave her a gentle smile. "She's by the dojo," said Rikuo. "I better hurry. I think my mom's still training there."

"Of course, young Master," responded the hair yokai. "Good luck."

With one final wave, Rikuo took off through the garden. When his figure finally disappeared, Kejoro turned and headed for the kitchen.

_Guess I'll start on breakfast then._

…

"That was a close call," Yura noted with a nervous laugh.

To think, just moments before, the shoji that she was peeking through was relatively intact, albeit a little worn. Now all that remained in its place was a pile of wood chips and scraps of duct tape. As her Rentei evaporated, Yura felt her knees buckle. With a heavy thud, she fell to her rump on the wooden floor.

"OH NO, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?" a troubled voice screamed from the dojo.

Yura looked up to see the kenshi that she was observing suddenly run to her aide. Now that she had a closer look at the woman, the young onmyouji could certainly see a resemblance with a certain brown-haired yokai boy. Perhaps it was the way her auburn hair stuck out messily after her training session, or maybe it was her eyes and the amount of innocence they seemed to convey at this moment. Whatever it was, Yura was certain that this woman was related to Rikuo. _His sister maybe? _she thought to herself.

"Hello? You're not hurt, are you?" the woman inquired. She had dropped to her knees and taken to examining the fallen girl for any injuries.

"No," Yura answered finally, "I'm fine. That just really surprised me."

The woman's face instantly brightened. "Really?" she asked. "Thank goodness. The last time this happened, I almost killed Aotabo. My husband got really upset. But are you absolutely sure you're okay. You suddenly look really pale."

Yura nodded vigorously, but she also felt herself slowing leaning away from this strange woman. _Who is she exactly?_ thought the young girl. _This person is definitely not normal. And those skills were very similar to onmyouji arts._

"Um, excuse me," Yura started, "but who-"

"MOM! KEIKAIN-SAN!"

The onmyouji girl turned her head to the source of the outburst. To her surprise - and secretly, her delight - Yura saw a fairly familiar yokai boy running up to them. His spiky brown hair stuck out more than usual and his glasses looked askew, but he did not seem to care. Rikuo seemed more concerned about getting to her side as quickly as possible. She was just about to greet him when she stopped herself. _Wait a second,_ Yura pondered, _did he just say "mom"?_

"Ah, morning, hun," the young woman greeted. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," her son answered as he settled down next to Yura. "More importantly, what happened here?" The boy emphasized his question by gesticulating between the now shoji-less dojo and the two females.

Rikuo's mother simply looked back and forth between her son and the mess of wood just inches away from her. She then put a finger to her lips and closed her eyes as if in deep thought. To Yura, she resembled a child who had just been caught doing something naughty, and Rikuo was the father who was now interrogating her. It was simply a crime for an adult to look this cute. Eventually, the boy's mother stuck out her tongue and gave herself a playful punch to the head.

"Sorry, Rikuo," she apologized while clapping her hands together. "I guess I overdid it with the practice. You won't tell grandpa, will you?"

The young head gave an exasperated sigh. "No, I won't," he answered, "but you know he's going to find out eventually."

"Yeah, I guess so." The woman's eyes then lit up as she changed the focus of her attention. "By the way, hun, who's this pretty girl right here? Is she your girlfriend?"

The question hit the youngsters like a punch to the gut. They both immediately reddened as their eyes caught one another. It was as if the world had reached a standstill as a heavy silence filled the air. Yura could clearly hear her heart beat. It was deafening, and the young girl was almost sure that her chest would burst. Then, in perfect unison, the two adolescents gave their answer.

"NO!"

The silence was almost palpable this time. Yura had dropped her head and refused to look at anyone. She was almost sure that Rikuo was doing the same. Thankfully, the awkwardness was shattered by the boy's mother.

"Really?" she asked. "That's a shame. By the way, I'm Rikuo's mother, Wakana Nura. But you can call me Wakana, or mom if you prefer."

"Mom!"

"What's wrong, Rikuo?" Wakana questioned. "I don't mind."

Yura finally lifted her head to look at the smiling woman before her. The young girl could not help but smile back. As powerful as Wakana seemed to be, hers was a personality that Yura could not hate. The onmyouji was certainly starting to warm up to her.

"My name is Yura," the girl stated, "Yura Keikain. Sorry for the intrusion. Nura-kun was kind enough to help me after I got into some trouble yesterday."

"Trouble?" Wakana exclaimed with a worried voice. "That's not good! What happened?"

"It was nothing big," Yura reassured the woman. "Please, don't worry about it."

Wakana still seemed doubtful, but she decided not to push the issue any further. "Okay, if you insist," she said. "Good thing Rikuo was there."

"Yeah," Yura agreed. The young onmyouji then took that moment to look Rikuo straight in the eyes. "I'm very thankful for that."

The young head's expression softened as soon as he heard those words. "Don't worry about it," he assured. "If you ever need help, you can always count on me."

Yura blushed slightly as she heard those words. It was just like Rikuo to say something like that. No matter the person or the situation, he would gladly offer his assistance. That was just the type of person he was. Maybe that was why she so easily accepted his admission the night before. Be it yokai or human, Rikuo was still Rikuo. _But I still want to make sure . . ._

"Okay!" Wakana exclaimed, knocking Yura out of her reverie. "Now, why don't we all go have some breakfast? Yura-chan, I'm sure you're famished. Why don't you join us?"

"Oh no," Yura responded, "I couldn't impose on you like that. I'm fine, re-"

GRRROOOWWWLLL!

Yura froze as the sound echoed for a good five seconds. Wakana gave a knowing smile while Rikuo tried rather unsuccessfully to stifle his laughter. _Of all the times for my stomach to betray me,_ lamented the young girl.

"Well," Yura now decided, trying to regain some of her pride, "I guess I could stay for breakfast."

"Good girl." Wakana then turned to her son. "Rikuo, do you think you can go find your grandpa? I think he went to eat over at the Usami's again."

"Really? All right," agreed the young head as he rolled his eyes. "I'll look for him. I swear, gramps causes too much trouble for the neighbors."

As the boy stood up to walk away, Wakana addressed Yura once more. "Yura-chan, do you think you can help me prepare the banquet hall for breakfast? I'd really appreciate it."

"Sure," replied the young onmyouji. There was no way she could really refuse. It was the least she could do after being treated to a free meal.

"Keikain-san!"

Surprised, Yura looked back at the call of her name. In the distance by the weeping cherry tree, she could make out the figure of Rikuo happily waving at her.

"I almost forgot," he yelled, "I'm glad you're all right!"

…

Yura took a moment to examine herself in the mirror. At the insistence of Rikuo's mother, the onmyouji had changed out of her borrowed pajamas and into a light blue yukata. It was a magnificently beautiful robe, and Yura was amazed at how well it fit her. Pale pink sakura petals decorated the entire fabric and the matching coral colored obi complimented the outfit quite well.

"Wow," Wakana praised, "you look so cute Yura-chan! I'm glad my old yukata was able to fit you."

Rikuo's mother had changed into an equally beautiful pale yellow kimono with a sunflower print. She was the perfect picture of the traditional Japanese woman. It was almost hard to believe that this was the same person that the young onmyouji encountered at the dojo.

"This is yours Nura-san?" asked Yura in astonishment. "I couldn't possibly wear this. What if I ruin it?"

"Nonsense, Yura-chan," the woman declared. "And please, call me Wakana. I can't wear that anymore. It's too short. A yukata is meant to be worn. Otherwise, it's nothing more than a useless piece of fabric. I'd rather it be worn by a pretty girl than sit around gathering dust."

"Are you sure?" Yura questioned tentatively.

"Of course," promised Wakana. The woman then came up behind the girl and gently grasped her shoulders, willing her to look in the mirror again. "Don't you see how cute you look right now? I bet the boys simply go crazy for you at the summer festivals."

Yura could not help but blush at the woman's compliment. She was never really one to consider her looks before. The young onmyouji was always too preoccupied with her training to focus on anything else. Even things like dressing up in yukatas and going to festivals were relatively foreign to her. But as she continued to gaze at herself, wistful images of a certain yokai boy began to play around in her head. _I wonder if he likes festivals, _mused the girl. She would have to ask him about that later.

"Thank you, Nura-sa-, uh, I mean, Wakana-san," Yura said.

"I'm simply telling the truth," she replied cordially. Wakana then flashed a quick smile and beckoned the young girl to the hallway. "Okay then. Now let's hurry and get breakfast ready."

Rikuo's mother wasted no time in leading Yura to the banquet hall. Along the way though, Yura could not help but marvel at the size of the mansion. Sure, she had explored it during her first visit, but she had never really taken the time to appreciate the grandiosity of it all. Its scale and style could have been compared to the Keikain Main House. The only difference between the two would be the type of occupants. As she continued this train of thought, it brought up a question that had been itching at the back of the onmyouji's mind.

"Excuse me, Wakana-san," Yura remarked as they continued walking, "but may I ask you something?"

"Of course, dear. What is it?"

"Well," the girl said slowly, "I was just wondering . . . you are human, aren't you?" The woman gave her a quick glance but otherwise kept walking.

"That sure is a strange question," Wakana stated, "but it's understandable coming from an onmyouji."

Yura immediately froze. "Wait," the girl asserted, "how did you know?"

Wakana had also stopped and turned to face her. "It wasn't hard to figure out. Back at the dojo, you managed to dispel my attack, and with a shikigami no less. I have to say that was quite impressive, especially coming from someone so young. But to answer your first question, yes, I am human."

Yura relaxed once she heard that admission. Despite her increasing tolerance for certain yokai, she was still an onmyouji. It would not be easy to let go of a prejudice that had been ingrained into her since she was a child.

"Then does that mean that you're an onmyouji as well?" questioned Yura. "That attack back there was not something a normal human would be capable of."

"Oh no," Wakana denied raising her hands. "I have never made it a duty to exorcise yokai. Otherwise, I wouldn't have married my husband. However, I do admit that I have dabbled in onmyouji arts. But that's a story for another time." After giving one more smile, Wakana slid open the nearby fusuma.

"Ah, Wakana-sama" a familiar voice exclaimed from the banquet hall, "there you are! Can you set the tables near the far wall?"

"Of course," replied the woman kindly. "Oh, and Tsurara-chan, I brought some help today."

"Really?" questioned the ice yokai. "Who is i- HIEEEEE? THE ONMYOUJI GIRL?"

"Uh, Tsurara-chan . . ." Wakana said softly, trying to prevent the coming storm.

Said onmyouji girl simply raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with you?" she asked. "You don't have to worry. I'm too tired to exorcise any yokai today. Besides, Nura-kun would probably be upset if I did."

"Yura-chan . . ."

Upon hearing the mention of the young head, Tsurara suddenly forgot about being scared. Her thoughts turned to her run-in with Rikuo earlier that morning and she found herself growing a little red. She would definitely not lose to the onmyouji girl.

"Exorcise?" snapped the Yuki-onna. "Please, you couldn't even take care of some dirty rats. We had to save your sorry butt during the Kyuuso incident."

"What was tha-"

"OUCH!"

The two girls now had fresh bumps on their heads courtesy of the Nura Clan matriarch. The woman stared them down as she held a bokken over her right shoulder. _Where did she get that?_ Yura questioned.

"Enough girls," Wakana stated firmly. "I don't want any fighting, okay. We have to get breakfast ready. Or would you like to join me for an extra special training session first?" The atmosphere shifted as the woman adopted an almost feral grin. Both girls quivered as she awaited their reply. For someone who usually acted with a childlike innocence, Wakana Nura could be downright terrifying if she so wished it. After a short pause, the girls mentally agreed upon their desire to continue living.

"We're sorry!"

At their apology, the woman relinquished her bokken and gave them a more genuine smile. "Good," she asserted. "Now let's hurry up. We have a job to do."

…

"I'm back," Rikuo called as he returned from his rather unfruitful search.

For nearly half and hour, the young head had been scouring Ukiyoe Town for the Supreme Commander. He thought he had a lead at the Usami's when he discovered the remnants of his grandpa's patented eat-and-run, but the trail simply went cold after that. _Seriously,_ Rikuo fumed, _where does gramps go sometimes? He's just causing too much trouble for us and the neighbors. Whatever. He'll come back when he wants to. Right now, I just want something to eat._

As Rikuo walked down the corridors of the main house, he had only one destination in mind: the banquet hall. To say he was starving was an understatement. After all his running around and worrying, the boy simply wanted to sit down to a nice hot bowl of miso soup.

The closer Rikuo got to banquet hall, the hungrier he seemed to get. The delectable scent of Kejoro's cooking wafted around his nose, teasing his stomach like a dangling carrot. Aside from the miso, he could clearly make out some grilled fish and eggs. Just add some rice with nori, and Rikuo would be in heaven. But despite the euphoria his senses were feeling, the young head could not help but feel a sense of foreboding. Around meal times, the banquet hall would be rife with the sounds of eating and merrymaking. As it was, things were deathly quiet. _I hope I'm just imagining it, _thought the young head.

When Rikuo finally reached his destination, he found that his instincts were right on target. A heavy silence filled the air as the banquet hall was split into two camps. To the left was the majority of the hyakki yakou while the right was a relatively small group composed of his mother, Yura, and his closest attendants. Neither side seemed to be eating; rather, they appeared to be at a standstill. Members from both sides simply stared across the room as if daring the other to make the first move. Unable to take it anymore, Rikuo decided to speak up.

"Oi, what's going on here?"

The spell seemed to break as all eyes focused on Rikuo. Nervous murmuring broke out between members of the hyakki.

"Nura-kun!" Yura exclaimed first. She looked relieved to see him.

"Oh, Rikuo," his mother piped in, "there you are. We were waiting for you. Perhaps you can settle this."

"Settle what?" the young head asked.

"Um, Rikuo-sama," chimed a squeaky voice at the boy's feet. He looked down to see Natto Kozo wringing his hands rather anxiously. "Pardon my rudeness, but do you realize that the onmyouji girl is sitting over there?"

The young head gave the tiny yokai a bemused expression. "Yes," he answered. "I realize that. We invited her to breakfast."

Natto was starting to look more timid. "Yes, we- well," he stammered, "we were just wondering why?"

"She's my friend," Rikuo said rather strongly. He was starting to get quite irritated. "Isn't that a good enough reason?"

After the boy's statement, Natto began to sweat rather profusely. In but the tiniest of whispers, he asked one more question. "Ri- Rikuo-sama. Forgive me, but at the behest of the hyakki yakou, would it be possible for her to leave soon?"

Now Rikuo was positively furious. He was tired and hungry and he certainly did not need his subordinates making Yura uncomfortable.

"All right, that's it!" he yelled. "I've said it once, and I'll say it again. Yura is my friend, and she's not leaving until she wants to! End of discussion! If any of you have a problem with that, speak up now!"

When no one made a sound, Rikuo made his way to his mother's table and sat next to Yura. The onmyouji girl had her head down, but beneath her bangs, he could see the makings of a small smile and a light blush.

"Thank you," the girl whispered. Her voice was soft, but it alone was enough to curb his rising temper.

"No problem," Rikuo assured her. "Let's just eat."

"Uh, young master," Kejoro interrupted, "you might want to hold off on that." The hair yokai motioned to the rest of the hyakki.

"Why, wha-"

"AIEEEEE, MASTER HAS BETRAYED US!"

"HE SOLD US OUT TO THE ONMYOUJI!"

"I'M TOO YOUNG TO BE EXORCISED!"

"SUPREME COMMANDER! WHERE IS THE SUPREME COMMANDER!"

Utter pandemonium broke out as members of the hyakki yakou went hysterical. Chairs and tables were sent flying as a mass exodus took place in the banquet hall. It was quite a sight to behold actually. Not even during the Shikoku incident had Rikuo seen his subordinates as riled up as this. Yokai of all kinds tripped over themselves and each other as they rushed for the exits. Within a few seconds, the entire room was nothing more than a barren wasteland.

Rikuo was simply dumbfounded. He was at a loss for words at the bedlam that he had become witness to. Ever so slowly, he turned his attention to the few residual members in the room. Yura looked just as surprised as Rikuo. Her jaw hung open slightly as her eyes expressed feelings of disbelief. Rikuo's mother kept her patented smile of innocence with her head tilted slightly, as if waiting for something more to happen. The remaining yokai caretakers, however, simply hung their heads and shook them.

"Well," Aotabo stated, finally breaking the silence, "I guess we better go round up those idiots before they do something stupid. Kuro, Kubinashi, Kappa, come with me." Both Kubinashi and Kappa nodded and got to their feet. The monk just gave a heavy sigh.

"Fine," he relented. "Young Master, you and Keikain-san should probably eat. It might be easier to persuade the others to come back if you're finished." With that, the two assault officers plus two set off.

"I am so confused right now," remarked Rikuo.

"Well, hun," his mother finally said, "it was actually quite chaotic before you got back. By the time you arrived, we had barely managed to calm everyone down. For some reason, everyone was scared of Yura-chan."

"She is an onmyouji after all," Tsurara noted offhandedly as she filled her bowl with rice.

"Yes, I know," continued Wakana, "but I didn't think they would overreact so much. And I thought for sure that Rikuo would knock some sense into them. Oh well, I'm sure they'll learn to love her eventually."

When the conversation ceased, Rikuo dropped his head to the table and let out one last sigh. _This is going to be a long day,_ he mused. As he thought those words, however, he felt something warm envelop his left hand under the wooden surface and give it a gentle squeeze. But as quickly as it had come, the sensation was suddenly gone. Lifting his head, Rikuo was surprised to find the seat next to him vacant. _Did I just imagine that?_

Meanwhile, Yura had started serving herself some food all while sporting a gentle smile.

_This was definitely an interesting morning._

…

**Author's Notes:** A thousand apologies for such a late update! So many things have happened: school, my laptop breaking down, and life in general. But here is the latest chapter of _Discoveries_. Hopefully, the next update won't take as long.

Comments, suggestions, and constructive criticism are appreciated. After all, that's the only way I can get better.

Catch ya later!

**Vocab:**

shoin - a study room

roka - wooden floored passages on the edge of a house

shinai - a bamboo practice sword

bokken - a Japanese wooden sword used for training

katana - a Japanese backsword also commonly referred to as a "samurai sword"

keikogi - a uniform for training, used in martial arts derived from Japan

hakama - a garment separated in the middle to form two wide trouser legs

kenshi - swordsman

yukata - a Japanese garment, a casual summer kimono usually made of cotton

obi - a sash worn with a kimono or with the uniforms used by practitioners of Japanese martial arts

miso - a traditional Japanese seasoning produced by fermenting rice, barley and/or soybeans, with salt and the fungus kojikin

nori - the Japanese name for various edible seaweed species


End file.
